“Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. ” Courtlaw was dismissed. I am no one, Gérard. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed.
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